The Speed of Light
by Fly On Aya
Summary: Magnus couldn't quite forget about the mysterious man he went on a date with last month. To Magnus, that date was the most amazing and most thrilling he'd ever had. For the mysterious man, it was a revelation that he wanted to nothing to do with. But Magnus wants to see him again, and this time he won't let go. AH.
1. Prologue

**A/N: A new chapter story! I know you all were waiting for it. (Desperately, might I add.) This is my first Mortal Instruments fanfic, so I hope you guys would like it. This chapter is a prologue; it's more like a sneak peek/introduction.**

* * *

**Prologue**

The one thing I know for sure, a man like me should not be known. I should not be liked nor loved. But I still yearn to be loved like the speed of light: fast, firm, and with no thoughts of an end.

On the night of the full moon last month, I went on a date with a guy who hugged me like the way he hugged his booze. He told me the mood from that night was great. It was, for a fact, the mood he liked. Then he showed it to me. He said, "It is the same mood I get when I would go bare at will just for a cup of joe."

That night was like warm, oven fresh bread, like fresh cut spring blooms. It was filled with warmth and spiced with crisp ease. It was chance that I met him. I thank God now for fate was by my side that night.

On this vowed night, I am with him. I want to touch his heart. I want him to melt me with hums of sweet jests in French on my ears.

I want him to love me like the speed of light.

* * *

**A/N: Did you notice that I wrote the prologue with only one-syllable words? Did you catch that? I'll leave you guys to contemplate who the narrator in this prologue is. ;) Any guesses?**


	2. Time Dilation

**A/N: I love Physics. I fell in love with the study of physics during second semester of my junior year. What really "captured my heart" was the mini-unit about waves and relativity. As a result, I want to put some of what I learned from that mini-unit into this story. My sincere apologies in advance to all physics students out there if I do get some concepts wrong. (I highly doubt that would occur. School just ended two days ago for me, so those concepts are still fresh in my mind.)**

* * *

**Consequence 1: Time Dilation (_The faster you move through space, the slower you move through time._)**

**_Two months ago..._**

**Alec**

Is it possible to be recently gay? I find it hard to believe that someone can be gay just only recently. I don't have any gay friends, so I really wouldn't know. Although, I've heard stories of guys who turned the homosexual leaf after just one making out session with the same sex. They were only stories, but _damn_, they sounded true.

I'm twenty-four, and I just recently found out that I'm attracted to guys. Insert metaphorical table-flipping here.

I was straight until two weeks ago. No, there was no mind-blowing, highly arousing, making out session to give birth to the epiphany of my "true" sexual orientation. It wasn't even exciting, the road to the epiphany.

I was out strolling at Chicago, down the Magnificent Mile, when H&M's display case caught my eye. It so captivated me that I stopped in the middle of the road to stare at it.

It was a poster of David Beckham in his boxer-briefs. He was using his (glorious, wondrous) body to advertise his line of underwear at H&M.

And all I remember thinking was: _I'd love to lick him all over. _

I went to the other display case, only to see a long poster of a (hot) guy lounging on a bright blue couch, his white shirt only buttoned halfway.

My thoughts? _I bet his chest is as hairy as his muscular legs._

I don't know what happened next. I probably went home. Locked myself in my room. And screamed. I don't know.

All I remember vividly (and embarrassingly) was the fact that I had a hard-on for the rest of the day. Didn't even go to my usual Taekwondo class. Spent over an hour inside the shower furiously tugging at my penis, the hot water scorching my skin as it fell from the shower head.

No. This cannot happen.

* * *

**Magnus**

I'm bisexual. Damn proud of it.

Kids ask how. Heterosexual females gasp "Really?" Gays flash eyes of appreciation at my appearance. Lesbians, well, let's just say they love-hate me instantly. Now, this is not true for all people. I'm only generalizing the reactions I've gotten from the people I've met.

The first time I realized I was attracted to both sexes was when I was thirteen. I was confused, and I was so desperate for answers why I was suddenly attracted to both girls AND guys.

I was afraid to ask about my dilemma to my parents. Now that I think about it, I should have. I mean, they're both psychologists.

Finally, it took me two more years until I could finally talk about it with my parents. For two psychologists, they were relatively _un_psychological about it. You'd think they were professional and formal about it. But NO.

The surprising thing was my father was the more vocal of the two. He kept asking me question after question, not waiting for me to answer them. I think I ended up flashing the bird at him when he asked if I ever masturbated to gay porn. Not that he was offended or anything.

"Son, do you _think_ you are attracted to both sexes or do you _feel_ you are attracted to both sexes?" My father had asked me, his elbows on his knees, and leaned so close to me that my face was inches from his.

There's something very unsettling talking about one's lover with one's father. My mother was more than happy to talk to me, which is surprising because she's never known a bisexual before.

My father… well… let's just say my father would not be the first person I would discuss with about my lover. He's just so… so… serious.

I had asked, "There's a difference?" I flashed a desperate look of Help-me to my mother, but she just leaned back on the sofa and grinned evilly at me.

The stereotype that psychologists are cold-blooded, boring robots certainly does not apply to my parents.

From then onwards, my bisexuality never failed to become the ideal topic in the dinner table. It's not even because my parents are curious about my sexual orientation. It's because they felt they _should_ know about and be aware of their son's social (more like sexual) relationships. Not that I ever told them who I was dating currently at that period of time.

* * *

It took me quite a long time to get adjusted to the idea of being attracted to both sexes. It took almost two years, actually. After I was able to acknowledge my sexuality, I acquired myself a boyfriend.

"Acquired" is such an inappropriate verb to use in that phrase. How else am I supposed to word it? I was not exactly _coerced_ into the relationship. It was more like an overnight thing. It's like, I woke the next morning and _Oh, hey. I got myself a boyfriend._

I was at a party. Next thing I know, I was making out with a guy. The next day, we were dating. How? I still don't know even to this day.

I'm treating this first homosexual relationship of mine so coldly, aren't I? He wasn't exactly the best boyfriend ever. He was so horny _all the fucking time_.

Wanna know how I lost my virginity? I was an anal sex virgin until I was seventeen. It was Saturday night, the two of us napped (while cuddling) after an intense making out session. When I woke up, it was the middle of the night, around two?

Anyway, I woke up with my face pressed down on one of the couch's throw pillows, my ass sticking up in the air. I didn't know what was happening; it took me five more minutes to realize that my pants were gone and he was groping my ass. Two more minutes to notice that he had two fingers in my asshole. A minute more to feel the head of his penis pushing into my asshole.

All in all, it took about ten minutes for me to FINALLY realized I was being anally fucked.

I dumped him the next day. More like, I destroyed his dignity and crushed his soul first THEN I dumped him. Granted, I enjoyed the sex. (Or was it rape?) I enjoyed it, but it just wasn't how I wanted it.

Sex should be an mutual agreement between the two (or more) participants. The sex with him was a one-way street. He was the _I'm gonna fuck you _car that was traveling the _opposite _direction. Reckless with no regrets. I was the _What's happening? Is that a penis up my ass? _car that was traveling in the direction that the one-way street dictated. Unknowing, confused.

CRASH. Our end was inevitable. I saw it coming, after he came all over my ass.

Fucking bastard.

It's been eight years after that incident. I made sure, for every homosexual one-night stand I had since, to never be the bottom. I was always the top. I actually made an amazingly wonderful top, or so I've been told.

Thanks to him, I pretty much developed a fear of _being _anally fucked. I haven't been fucked since then. He's the first and _the last _person who fucked me. The people who I had one-night stands with didn't fuck me; I fucked _with _them. Their pleasures are always my top priority. Unless they orgasm first, I won't orgasm.

Isn't that generous of me? I didn't turn into the Fucking Bastard; I vowed to never become like him. Success!

* * *

**Alec**

I found myself wanting to try something different when I woke up this morning. Don't know why. I mean, I'm the routine kind of guy. I adore my slightly obsessive routines.

Is this the so-called global warming within my psychological demons the "scientists" have been talking about? Could it be happening now at the most important time of my life? Why, oh, why? (You'll never see me so dramatic like this in real life.)

I just want to adventurize my life. I deserve some scandal. No, that's not the right word; that sounds very risqué.

One of these days, I am going to become a hedonist. I will live a life sorely centered on unadulterated, uncensored pleasure. Just for a day, though. Forever becoming a hedonist sounds like it will be very demanding because pleasure will keep grabbing at you at every turn, like a clingy, attention-seeking lover.

One day. Just one day run by my selfish desires. I will do what I want to do.

* * *

So that's how I ended up in a flea market here in downtown Chicago. It might not be the most adventurous to you, but it is to me. I've never been in a flea market before, so today is an adventure for me.

Everywhere I look, I see something artistic or vintage or unique that catches my eye and I just want to buy it. But I can't buy every single thing that interests me; I am a college student with student loans after all.

I see a jewelry and accessories stand and I immediately think of my sister. I smile, thinking how much she'll appreciate (love) it if I bought her something. After all, women love their jewelry.

I walk over to the stand and examine the endless number of rings, bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. From floral to vintage designs, the stand has everything. My eyes skim over the necklaces (my sister has an entire drawer of those) and focus on the rings.

I meticulously look over at all the rings, the way I would when I spot dirt in my already-clean room. A light teal colored flower ring catches my eye. I reach over to take it when another hand has also made a grab for it.

Instinctively, I pull my hand away. I look to the owner of the other hand and realize the person is right beside me. Surprised, I fall back a step. The person is a man.

"Sorry," the word comes out of my mouth without even realizing it. The man smirks and tells me it's okay. I peek a glance at him again, only to find that he's also glancing at me.

I turn my eyes away from him immediately and look at the stand's merchandise instead. "Were you going for that ring too?" I ask, trying not to look longingly at the flower ring.

He answers, in a masculine voice, "Yes, actually. But you can have it."

_Is he serious? _My head turns back to him. "Really?" Damn, if I don't sound any more desperate.

His smirk grows in amusement. "Sure."

I take out my wallet while simultaneously reaching for the ring. As if on cue, the owner arrives and once she sees me with my wallet out, she immediately dashes in front of me with a gigantic grin on her face.

She names her price and I take out my cash. She flashes me a grateful smile and takes the ring from me so she can box it.

I couldn't help it; I glance at the man beside me again. He's staring at me with an unexplainable expression on his face.

"What?"

* * *

**Magnus**

"What?" he asks, his dark blue eyes glittering in half-excitement, half-nervousness. The man whom I have handed over the ring that I wanted is very attractive. _Very_.

Only one or two inches shorter than me (I'm 6'2), he has the look of a supermodel. He's certainly built for the job, not too muscular and not too lean either. Just the right amount of slim and muscular.

Even his attire is the look of a supermodel. A white V-neck tee exposes his slender/muscular arms, dark denim skinny jeans accentuate his long legs, and his style is finished off with a pair of worn out dark brown leather boots. So simple, and yet so sexy.

His black hair is cut short to his scalp and is slightly mussed, giving him a rakish look.

Damn. Black hair + blue eyes = Magnus aroused.

I push away all the naked images of him that suddenly popped out in my head. Instead I focus my attention to his hands. He's wearing a leather bracelet around his right wrist and a thin silver ring around his left pinky finger.

I look up to see the owner coming. The owner of the stand comes back with the packaged ring and hands it over to him. He smiles slightly at her and I noticed the woman blinking furiously.

If anything, he becomes more handsome when he smiles, even if it's small.

He's holding the jewelry box with such loving gentleness that my heart skips a beat. "Present for the girlfriend?" I ask, trying not to sound jealous at future owner of that ring.

Ridiculous. Jealousy already?

He shakes his head. "No. It's for my sister. Her birthday is coming soon." Oh. Sister.

I nod my head, mentally kicking myself. "Greetings to her."

He glances at me for a second and flashes me a smirk. "She'll appreciate that. Coming from an attractive man." With that, he turns his back to me and starts to walk away.

_You can't just walk away telling me I'm attractive! _I almost start to follow him. But I stop myself and remain rooted to the ground.

I watch his retreating form until he disappears amidst the crowd.

"Once you fall into the realm of love, the chances of getting back to reality is almost zero," the owner comments, also staring at his retreating form.

"What?" I ask, confused.

The owner meets my gaze. "You won't get much from falling in love. The least you will get is a slower sense of the world."

_The fuck is she talking about?_

I nod at her nonsensical words and walk away.

* * *

**A/N: I know Alec is supposed to be serious and blunt, but I'm portraying his inner self as vocal and emotional. Hope you won't mind. If you want to know what the ring looks like, google "seafoam ring by lady faye". It's the second entry. RnR?**


	3. Length Contraction

**A/N: One slight alteration to Alec: he is actually a full-time worker and not a broke-ass college student. I kept picturing him as 18 years old, but when I calculated his CURRENT age, he's actually 24 by now (2013). So, it makes more sense if he's working instead of studying. Besides, I don't know college all that well.**

* * *

**Consequence # 2: Length Contraction (_The length of an object contracts parallel to the motion of the object at relativistic speeds._)**

_**Two weeks later...**_

**Alec**

I'm a romantic, though the people I know would never believe it or even _fathom _the existence of Alec Lightwood the romantic.

I based my idea of romance under the protective shade of a certain saying: devour joy like it may give away fluttering mornings. It made no sense, but I lived with it.

Even before the unfortunate realization of my sexuality two weeks ago, to me, romance is something taken for granted. People think romance is everywhere and that any act is romantic, when in fact it is not. It's like that Trigonometry unit in Pre-Calc class: you think you understand it, but you actually don't. You know that cosine squared plus sine squared equals one but you don't know _why _or _how_.

People have this in their minds that romance will (inevitably and magically) show up holding hands with happiness ringing the doorbells of their lovey-dovey relationships.

No.

Romance is a precious Japanese bonsai tree that needs special care and appreciation for its existence. Romance is not present in every relationship. If it was, every relationship would be a movie.

And we all know movies are not _real_.

All the other relationships I've had are heterosexual. Well, technically I've only dated two girls. (I'm quite traditional in my views, committing to one girl at a time.) They were great, but I've always felt something was missing. It wasn't romance.

The joy that I felt in those past relationships didn't give me fluttering mornings. It didn't _excite _me for a new day.

My mornings weren't _fluttering_; they were _walking_. I didn't wake up bursting to the seams with energy. The time passed by normally, sometimes slowly.

They were boring.

Maybe that's one of the factors that initiated my sexuality Eureka moment. I was bored with girls. I'm not saying _girls _are boring. Now don't get me wrong here, I still like girls. But I wasn't as excited around girls than when I was around my guy friends. Whenever I hang out with my guy friends, I always wake up the next day ready to take on the world.

It wasn't like that with either of my past girlfriends.

* * *

So far, today has been quite shitty. I woke up energized (last night's Taekwondo class was all-male) but the weather prohibited my energy from being put to good use. The weather had the nerve to suddenly decide it should rain today. And why not, let's add thunder as the background music and flashes of lightning to beautify the sky.

Fuck you, thunderstorms. Damn you to hell and back.

So in the end, I wasn't able to do my daily morning run and had to head straight to work instead. I'm a PT and I work at a nearby nursing home in Joliet, which is roughly 50 minutes away. I was cranky all through the drive there.

When I arrived at the home, my regional manager immediately gave me 3 evaluations to do. THREE. This was before I could even punch my time in. And I only do one or two evaluations PER WEEK. She gave me THREE this morning.

My patients must have sensed my bad mood, but didn't comment on it. And quite wise of them to not complain as much today and made my evaluations easier and faster to finish.

As I was snacking on grapes after my second evaluation I received a text. I popped three red grapes into my mouth before reading it. It was from my best friend's girlfriend Clary.

_Free tonight?_

I chewed the grapes in my mouth before answering. Swallowing, I texted back.

_It's Friday._

Two seconds later, she texted back. Doesn't that girl have a job?

_Ok. Can I ask a favor?_

I sighed. I finished my grapes first and drank some water before replying to her text. I was just about to hit Send when another one from her popped up.

_A friend of mine asked me for a blind date. I found one for him and set up a date for them. Now the girl he was supposed to meet bailed on me._

Curiosity prickled in me. Not that it's any of my business, I texted her back with a why.

_She's leaving in two hours for some internship in Europe. Just told me an hour ago._

I chuckled low in my throat. One of the speech therapists in the room with me looked at me curiously. I flashed her one of my rare, dazzling smiles. She flushed pink and immediately looked away. I returned my focus at Clary's texts. I replied.

_Pissed you off then. What's the favor?_

She replied a few seconds later.

_Can you go to my friend and tell him the date's cancelled?_

_And you can't?_

_I CAN'T. ON MY WAY TO LONDON._

WHAT. She was in New York last I heard from her. I sighed again.

_Where and when?_

I can already see Clary smiling and thanking profusely her phone as she read my text. Sure enough, she sent me a picture of her smiling and sent me the needed information.

I just shook my head and went back to eating the rest of my snack.

* * *

By the time I finished all of my evals, it was already 3:46 PM. I left the nursing home two minutes later and was on the speedway in five.

I was so tired that all I wanted to do by the time I got home was to take a nap. I zombie-walked to my couch and promptly threw myself down. Two minutes after closing my eyes, my phone vibrated on my pocket.

Cursing the existence of modern technology, I sat up while rubbing my face and took out my phone. It was a text from Isabelle. I cursed under my breath again.

_Your gift came. Couldn't you have given me more?_

Of all the- I took deep breaths before answering her text.

_Ungrateful wench. Give it back then._

_Hell, no. Simon said it looks good on me._

_YOU hate it._

_Never said I hated it. Just saying I expected more._

I stood up and yawned. Texting with Isabelle never ends well. I called her instead. While waiting for her to pick up, I drank some water. I readied myself by leaning against my kitchen sink.

Immediately, Isabelle shouted her frustration. "How could you just give me one piece of jewelry for my birthday?!"

I pinched the bridge of nose and shifted my phone to the other ear. "What, you want an entire outfit?"

"Preferably yes. But that's not the point!"

"And the point is..."

"A ring, Alec! A ring! How could you give me _just _a ring?" I heard a loud smack in the background.

I raised a brow, despite knowing she won't see it. "Never thought I'd hear a complaint from receiving a ring."

"Alec!"

I sighed loudly. "Izzy, I'm not spending my paycheck on you. Be happy I even remembered your birthday."

"But still! A ring! You could have at least added a shirt or something."

"You hate every piece of clothing I buy for you."

It took Isabelle a few seconds to counter something back. "That's because they're all boring colors. Navy blue? Who wears navy blue?"

I do. "Izzy, say thank you."

"Thank you. But Alec-"

I've had enough. I know I heard Simon in the background so I called out for him. "Simon?"

Izzy was still going on with her rant when Simon took the phone. "How should I shut her up for you?" Simon asked.

I grinned. "Say the ring is your favorite."

"What, no insults included?"

"No. She'll never acknowledge it, but she really prefers what you have to say."

Simon let out a small chuckle. "I actually know that fact. She's too stubborn to admit it. Will do, Alec." Then I heard him talk to Isabelle. "That ring is my most favorite thing on you. Almost makes you look like a fairy. Well, your hands, that is. Look like a fairy's hands."

I could almost see Izzy melting to Simon's words. But knowing her, she won't actually physically swoon. "Really? I thought the owl ring was your favorite."

"Owls are creepy," he replied. I agreed and repeated what he said. "See, even Alec thinks so!"

Thus ensued kissing noises in the background. Immediately disturbed, I hung up. I really didn't want to listen to my sister's make-out session with her boyfriend.

I looked at the clock again. 5:57. I still needed to do Clary's favor, which was about an hour away. Putting the phone back on my pocket, I headed to my room and changed.

* * *

**Magnus**

You know the shitty truth about blind dating? It hardly ends well. The probability of a happy ending at the end of a blind date is as low as me finding my one true love.

I've been to several and I've gotten myself laid at the end of most of them. You could say I've had my fair share of "happy endings".

But I wasn't referring to that kind of happy ending. I meant the kind Disney movies always seem to be advertising to its young audience. The princess ends up with her Prince Charming. Or as in my case, I end up with my Royal Soulmate, gender still unknown.

Now and then, I torture myself by asking my platonic girlfriend Clary to set me up. I already know how it will end: me achieving my "happy ending" of the day. It's exactly like watching a Disney princess movie. You know the heroine will _always _end up with her Prince Charming.

Why do girls still watch the next princess movie when they already know the ending? Why do I still go on blind dates when I know I will end up with sex?

Maybe it's my slight sadistic streak unleashing itself. I like the awkward atmosphere at the start of every blind date. Especially since I know I'm the one who makes it suffocating.

I'm a psychologist. It's everyday life for me. What can I say?

* * *

Where the fuck is that bitch? (Ahem. I meant "lady".) It's already 7:45! How dare she make Magnus wait?

Clary, I am so gonna strangle you.

I once again looked at my watch, while the waiter refilled my glass with wine. I tried to quash my anger before it could boil over and turn me into the spawn of the Devil and destroy everything in my path.

The sound of footsteps alerted me. All at once, I panicked. I willed myself to rearrange my body in a relaxed stance by rotating 45 degrees to the left, crossing my legs loosely, and casually playing with the stem of my glass.

It's hard work to look indifferent.

Out in the corner of my left eye, I saw a pair of dark brown leather loafers. Right away I realized this person was not my date. Women don't wear loafers to a romantic dinner date in a fancy restaurant.

A new spark of anger kindled in me. I extinguished it immediately.

"Are you Magnus?" A voice reverberated masculine and sexy from the direction of the loafers.

I was forced to look up.

Clary, I love you so much.

* * *

**Alec**

I meticulously picked my outfit to the restaurant. Although I was only going there as a messenger, I still wanted to look good.

Vanity was a rare occurrence in my daily life.

I put on a light brown button down and loosely tied a skinny black tie. I also pulled on my navy blue skinny trousers, leaving it unzipped so I could roll up my cuffs. I left my room as I zipped up my trousers and wrapped my watch around my left wrist.

After I found my leather loafers, I contemplated whether to wear a jacket or not. So I checked the weather and finally left my apartment without a jacket.

I hailed a taxi outside and told the driver the address of the restaurant. After settling on my seat, I checked all my pockets if my keys, wallet, and phone were there. It's part of my personality to be meticulous.

I arrived at the restaurant all too soon. I paid my fare to the driver and got off the taxi.

I couldn't believe it, but I was actually nervous. Hell if I knew why. I was only the messenger, not the date partner.

Before entering the restaurant, I ran a hand through my dark hair and took a deep breath.

* * *

Ten seconds after entering the restaurant, I realized I didn't even know what Clary's friend looked like.

Fuck.

But I was determined to fulfill Clary's favor. So I used my power of deduction. I started looking for men all alone in tables for two.

I saw five. Damn it.

Next I went with my gut instincts. Based on Clary's oh-so-helpful lack of information, the man had to be older than her. And based from the setting of this date, he was fancy. Sophisticated.

That narrowed my choices to two. I started walking toward the man who was going through so much trouble to look bored.

"Are you Magnus?" I asked, as soon as I reached the table.

The man looked up from his glass of wine and right away an arrow of familiarity pierced through me.

Have I seen him somewhere before?

"Yes, I am," the man answered, his hazel eyes twinkling in recognition.

I've seen him... somewhere. Where?

* * *

**Magnus**

It was the supermodel from the flea market.

I felt instant relief that soon turned into disappointment when I saw that he didn't recognize me. _How is that even possible? _It couldn't even been more than two weeks since I last saw him.

Maybe I was slowly losing my irresistible charm.

"Yes, I am," I answered to the supermodel and stood up. I saw a flicker of recognition in his dark blue eyes, but it soon dissipated. There went my hope, crushed and forgotten without being given the chance to blossom.

"I'm Alec," he said as he extended out his hand. "I'm here on behalf of Clary." I took his hand and felt an electric shock that made me look down at our joined hands.

Alec immediately pulled his hand away and hid it inside his front pocket. I tried to search his face for any reaction but it was like looking at a wall. His handsome face gave nothing away.

"I have some bad news," he said in a low voice. I told him to sit down first. A waiter came over to our table and filled Alec's glass with wine. Alec absently thanked the waiter and turned to me.

I picked up my glass and looked at him over the rim. "My date bailed on me," I guessed.

His blue eyes slightly widened. "Yes. So you already knew."

I shrugged one shoulder. "I've been waiting for almost an hour for her. What else could it be?"

He didn't say anything for awhile. "So much for being a messenger," he murmured under his breath.

I chuckled. Alec looked at me questioningly. "Did Clary specifically gave this quest to you?"

Alec smirked as he took another sip of his wine. His tongue ran over his lush lower lip. "It was a favor, actually."

I stared at his lower lip for a few heart beats. I could see myself writing several poems and odes about that lower lip. I blocked out whatever it was he was saying and only watched the movement of his lips

It was a few seconds later that I realized he was leaving. His glass of wine was finished and he was starting to stand up.

Panic soon rushed through me. I didn't want him to leave just yet.

So when he stood up, I also stood up. He walked to my side and again extended his hand for a handshake. Did he want to get electrocuted again?

Either he was stupid or he was doing it on purpose, it didn't matter. I took his hand, ignoring the excited shocks dancing up and down my arm to the rest of my body.

Without even thinking it, I asked him to go grab a few drinks with me.

Alec looked down at our interlocked hands then at me. I wondered what was going through his head. It seemed as if there was war raging within him as reflected from his dark blue eyes. Rapid successions of varying emotions sparkled in them.

He took away his hand. Again.

* * *

**Alec**

I wanted to say no. I badly wanted to.

Within five minutes of meeting Magnus, I knew he was dangerous. He was the Big Bad Wolf Little Red Riding Hood's grandmother told her to be afraid of. He was Danger lurking behind dark alleyways.

I couldn't help but feel attracted to him. His seductive glances and sinful smirks created a permanent burning fire to rage within me. His sexy chuckle a few minutes ago made my heart pound.

I was hooked, whether or not I wished to be. I certainly did not wish it. Just like how I didn't wish to be gay.

But this was only for tonight. Didn't I wish to be a hedonist for a day? A day sorely centered on unadulterated and uncensored pleasure for me and me only. This could be it.

I looked at Magnus now. His yellow-green eyes turned dark green as he continued to stare at me. I could feel the intensity of the emotion reflected on those eyes. I shivered unconsciously.

"Sure," I replied, a ripple of excitement spread all over my body. "Let's go for a few drinks."

Magnus's smile spread slowly. Danger was back, turning his already dark green eyes even darker. Magnus stuffed his hands in his front pockets and whispered on my ear before walking off.

His breath, hot against my ear, enticed me. So did his words or his challenge, you could say.

"Shall we?"

The gauntlet was thrown. I sure as hell won't flick it away. I looked at his retreating form, so menacing yet so damned sexy, and took a shaky breath.

I wondered whether I would get out of this alive and unscathed.

* * *

I learned two things about Magnus during our short drive to the nearest club. First, he was a psychologist, though he couldn't be more than a year older than me so I didn't know how it was possible for him to be a psychologist at such a young age. Second, he was bisexual.

The latter information unnerved me. Here I was, trying to deny my gayness and suddenly he came in, seducing my homosexual monster. I did my best to not be within touching distance with him for the rest of the night.

No matter how strong the attraction between us.

The club we went to was at its peak. The atmosphere was loud and everyone was swaying (grinding) to the hypnosis of the music. Magnus led me to the bar and we found two empty stools.

The bartender saw us settling in our seats and immediately asked what we wanted. I asked for a beer while Magnus wanted whiskey. I was right when I deduced that he had to be sophisticated.

Not once did Magnus even stray away from me. He just continued to look at me with those yellow-green eyes of his, boring holes into my soul. I ignored his looks and just looked at my beer.

Even though the club was almost full to the brim of people looking for fun, alcohol, and sex, it felt like it was just Magnus and I in the place. He asked questions about my life and I humored him with vague answers.

Magnus knew I was being a coward but I didn't care what he thought. He didn't pry further and just willingly accepted my useless answers.

As typical social conventions promoted give and take in conversations, I asked about him. His life. His job. Him.

His full name was Magnus Bane, the doctor title still nonexistent. The only son of a psychologist and psychiatrist, Magnus told me he led a very scrutinized life. His bisexuality never failed to interest and amuse his parents.

He told me he knew I was gay. I didn't say anything about that. He also told me he found me attractive. To this I asked, "You always say want you want to say, huh?"

Magnus smirked. "Part of being a psychologist is bluntness. Being blunt breeds trust. I deal with clients with psychological disorders. They come to me because they need someone they can trust. Someone who can talk to them without predispositions. Someone who is unbiased and would tell them words they have to hear, not words they want to hear."

From his little monologue, I saw his passion for his work. Here was a passionate man who exuded lazy sex and was attracted to me. What idiot would turn him away?

As I finished my third beer bottle, I thought back his words. "Don't your clients usually want you to tell them words they _want_ to hear?"

I felt his eyes on me again. "It always starts out that way. I force them to realize that what they want to hear won't help them at all."

I motioned to the bartender for another bottle. In seconds it was there right in front of me. I lifted it to my lips and drunk. I put it down and turned to Magnus.

"Just how do you force them to realize?" I asked.

Magnus shrugged. "I yell at them."

I snorted in disbelief and went back to my beer. "Isn't that unethical? Shouldn't clients be treated with care? Or at least some respect?"

Magnus slowly shook his head. "How I treat my clients is not in the least bit unethical. We psychologists have our own parenting styles, you could say. Some are like mother hens. Some are more like army generals. I think I'm somewhat in between those two."

"I have a feeling hatred grows somewhere in your style."

Magnus nodded. "It's inevitable, especially on the first few sessions. But they're plagued with their psychological demons. They're helpless, hopeless, and in desperate need of a shoulder."

"It must be hard being a psychologist."

Again, he nodded. But there was something soft twinkling in those yellow-green orbs. "I deal with those people everyday and all I want is to help them be normal again. Whatever 'normal' is to them. In my profession, the clients tend to detour from their 'normal' life journey. It's my purpose to steer them back to their 'normal' roads."

I thought of my love life and my new-found sexuality. I realized I tended to disappear or hide from my object of attraction. I was trying so hard to hide my attraction to guys. I looked at Magnus, who was busy playing with his glass of whiskey.

This was only an accidental meeting. I wasn't even supposed to be in this club with him. I should have been at home doing my notes and filling out eval forms of my patients.

Instead I was here, beside him. Drunk, after only three and a half bottles of beer.

And I was sitting here thinking, his date didn't like him.

Pity her because I enormously did.

* * *

**A/N: I had a timeline. I broke that timeline. Damn it. Anyway, RnR?**


End file.
